


An Odd Combination of Vulgarity and Sophistication

by Mystical_Artist



Category: The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Swearing, lighthearted with a touch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24983125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystical_Artist/pseuds/Mystical_Artist
Summary: Theo raised an eyebrow. “What? I’m not the one with my shirt half undone like some girl trying to show her tits. My shoes don’t have a heel, either.”“Ha! You are like Victorian man. Oh Boris,” Boris said in a mock high-pitched voice, “Don’t let me see your ankle!” He lifted up his pant leg and slowly rotated his foot, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Theo.“Fuck off,” Theo said with a laugh. “And fix your shirt for fucks sake. You look ridiculous.”
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky
Comments: 10
Kudos: 122





	An Odd Combination of Vulgarity and Sophistication

Theo sat with Boris on the sofa, some shitty TV show droning on in the background. Theo was thankful for whatever drugs Boris had supplied so he didn’t have to actually pay attention to it, though Boris seemed to be getting a kick out of it; randomly yelling at the TV in various languages while sipping his glass of wine, an odd combination of vulgarity and sophistication. An image, Theo thought, that summed up Boris perfectly. He wished he could have more, just one more hit, but he was sure they had already finished what Boris had with him.

He was still coming out of the fog when he realized Boris had been talking for a while now, and he forced himself to focus on what was being said. He threw a look over to Boris, who was dramatically gesturing in front of him, not a care in the world. While Boris was preoccupied, Theo allowed his eyes to travel down to Boris’ chest, where his shirt was partially unbuttoned, the pale flesh like a beacon of light against the darkness of the shirt. All night this had been a distraction to Theo, his eyes repeatedly being drawn back to it.

One of these times, Theo knew, Boris was going to catch him. And then what?

Theo squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten in an effort to make himself to listen to what Boris was saying when he opened them again.

“…are attracted to both men and women. Like you, yes?” Boris said, throwing a satisfied glance over to Theo.

Theo, whose eyes had automatically gone back to Boris’ shirt, barely had time to register what Boris had said before he launched into some irrelevant story about Russian dancers and exotic birds. Theo knew Boris would go on for hours if he let him –one elaborate story flowing into another- and any other time Theo might have been able to handle it, but his head wasn’t in a place to listen to Boris’ nonsense stories.

“Boris, just shut up for two fucking seconds. Jesus Christ,” Theo finally said, removing his glasses covering his eyes for a minute to try and collect his thoughts.

And Boris, by some miracle, shut up.

It wasn’t so much of an issue of _what_ Boris had said (Theo had spent years dealing with t _hat_ little secret), but _how_ _sure_ of himself he had been. No one knew Theo like Boris did, but his sexuality was something Boris had simply joked about before, never anything they had discussed seriously. He didn’t think he’d divulged that information, anyway. But clearly, he thought as the Goldfinch flashed before his closed eyes, he had been _very_ wrong about that before. Theo wondered what else he had done while drunk or high, but quickly decided he didn’t want to go down that road right now.

Theo realized he had two options. One, do what he had done for most of his life: deny deny deny. This would result in Boris –who hated being wrong- being moody and irritable for the rest of the night. Or two, admit that yes, he _did_ maybe, sort of like men, and deal with Boris being an insufferable ass for the rest of the night, rubbing in the fact that he was right.

Neither of these was a great option, Theo thought with a sigh, putting his glasses back on. However, he’d always managed to walk down a precarious middle road, never quite deciding until the last minute what to do. Maybe, he thought, that same method could work here.

“What do you mean, ‘like me’? I don’t like men,” Theo lied. He made a “well?” gesture with his hands when Boris gave him a blank look and didn’t respond. Theo was pretty sure Boris wasn’t _actually_ annoyed at being told to shut up, and, true to his nature, was trying to be as irritating as possible.

Theo turned and crossed his legs so he was actually facing Boris on the sofa, his knees almost touching Boris’ thigh. “Boris, stop being a dramatic ass and answer the damn question.”

“Oh, I am allowed to talk now? Okay. I talk,” Boris said, waving Theo closer as though he was about to divulge the world’s biggest secret. When Theo didn’t move any closer, Boris simply shrugged and continued. “You, Potter, like men _and_ women. Is very obvious. You were making eyes at handsome waiter all evening. Was very distracting; could hardly enjoy my meal.”

Theo glared at him. He had _not_ made eyes at anyone, let alone their server. True, the man had been incredibly good looking, but Theo had been more distracted by Boris’ stupid shirt to notice much of anything besides that.

“Please. I wasn’t flirting with anyone. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Theo lied. Again. So much for taking the middle road.

“See? Even now you are distracted by thoughts of him.” Boris waved his hand dramatically in front of him. “Theo and Handsome Waiter. I see very happy future for you both. We go back there so you can give him phone number!”

Theo reached over and punched Boris in the arm. “You are so full of shit.”

Boris shrugged. “Eh, you would never call him anyway. Would be waste of time. He would say, “What happened to Potter? He has left me all alone. I am so sad.”’

“He wouldn’t call me _Potter,”_ Theo said, rolling his eyes. “Literally no one calls me that but you.”

“Hmm?” Boris said, lightly bumping his thigh against Theo’s legs. “Okay, okay. _Theo_ has left me all alone.”

“You seem more interested in him than me. Why don’t _you_ go back and give him your phone number,” Theo countered.

Boris shook his head in mock seriousness. “Yes, but I was not the one flirting with him all evening. He would not want it to be me.”

Theo tapped his knee against Boris’ thigh. “Whatever. You look like shit anyway. He’d probably scream if he saw you now.”

Boris glanced down at his clothing. “What is wrong with my appearance? I look nice.” He lightly ran his hand down his shirt. “See? Dressy shirt. Belt. Fancy shoes. Is perfect. You, on the other hand…”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “What? I’m not the one with my shirt half undone like some girl trying to show her tits. My shoes don’t have a _heel_ , either.”

“Ha! You are like Victorian man. Oh Boris,” Boris said in a mock high-pitched voice, “Don’t let me see your ankle!” He lifted up his pant leg and slowly rotated his foot, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at Theo.

“Fuck off,” Theo said with a laugh. “And fix your shirt for fucks sake. You look ridiculous.”

Boris grinned and reached up to re-button his shirt. “Okay. I fix it.” He instead undid two more buttons and dropped his hands to his stomach, toying with a third button. Staring intently at the TV, Boris tried and failed to keep a straight face.

Theo reached over and punched him in the arm again. “Boris, you slut. You know that’s not what I meant!”

Boris threw his head back against the sofa and laughed.

It was, Theo realized with a pang, a beautiful sight. One he never thought he would tire of. When Boris laughed like this, it was like they were two teenagers again, living in Vegas doing whatever they wanted. Part of him longed for those times again, but Theo knew that kind of thinking was dangerous. Thinking of Vegas made him think of his mother, of the painting…muddied versions of events caused by drugs and straight up denial. These days, if he wanted to sit on the bottom of a pool until he either blacked out or died, there was no one to drag him to the surface.

Sometimes, he tried doing that in the bathtub; sinking down until his head hit the bottom, seeing how long he could stay down there before he started to lose consciousness. Just when he finally thought this behavior was something he had grown out of, something –anything, really- could set it off again. A small yellow bird on the windowsill, a flash of red hair fleeing around the corner…

Theo shook his head. He couldn’t let himself think about any of that right now. He hated how quickly his moods could change. One minute he was laughing with Boris, the next too lost in his own head to enjoy anything.

His face flushed with embarrassment when he realized he was still staring at Boris and his half unbuttoned shirt. And Boris was watching him stare.

Fuck. This was driving him insane.

Theo lunged over, grabbing Boris by the front of his shirt, his fingers trembling as he tried to re-button it. He tried and failed repeatedly, only managing to get one button halfway through the hole before it would fall back out, drawing more attention to Boris’ exposed skin. He paused when Boris reached up and clutched both of Theo’s wrists with his hands.

Theo let his shoulders drop in defeat as he briefly leaned his forehead against Boris’. It was clear this wasn’t going to work.

“Potter,” Boris said, his voice barely above a whisper. Theo leaned his head back at the sound of his tone. Theo wasn’t sure what to think of the look Boris was giving him. Longing? His eyes darted down to Theo’s lips, a movement so quick Theo barely had time to register it before Boris was letting go of his wrists. Theo felt a pang of disappointment as Boris reached down and slowly re-buttoned his shirt. Part of him wanted to reach back and unbutton it, just to see Boris’ reaction.

Theo instead sat back, defeated, to his previous position. His knees were now pressed firmly against Boris’ thigh. That felt important-the physical contact- and Theo didn’t want to end it quite yet.

“See? All better,” Boris said, his voice back to its normal volume. As if Theo hadn’t been practically straddling his lap moments ago, faces centimeters apart.

God, Theo could use another hit. Or another drink. Both would be ideal right about now.

“I need a smoke,” Boris said suddenly. He got up and grabbed his coat before Theo had a chance to do anything but weakly reach his hand out as if to say “don’t go”.

He let his hand fall back into his lap, letting out a pathetic laugh as he did. Theo had a gut-wrenching feeling that Boris wasn’t coming back. Theo had, after all, essentially rejected him with his inaction. Again. It felt just like Vegas; Theo only realizing what he should have done minutes too late. Boris had clearly wanted to kiss him, but had instead waited for Theo to make a move. Theo asked himself why he hadn’t just gone for it. All he had had to do was lean forward, and obviously it was what they both wanted. But now Boris was gone and he was alone, and the crushing feeling of solitude was already setting in.

He toyed with the idea of running a bath. Settling in under the water seemed like the perfect way to end this evening that had quickly turned to shit. Theo dragged his eyes over to the narrow hallway leading down to the bathroom, unable to make himself walk the short distance. His body felt like a block of stone, the emptiness of the sofa next to him like a black hole of oblivion that was sucking up all of his energy.

Theo instead turned his body so he was facing the TV. He felt his eyes glazing over, barely watching the stupid infomercial about non-stick frying pans that droned on and on. Had this really been what Boris had been watching this whole time? Theo had been too high before to care, but as usual, the drugs hadn’t impacted Boris nearly as much. Why Boris hadn’t changed to channel to something else was beyond him.

Theo snapped his head up when he heard the door open, nearly weeping at the sight of Boris stomping snow off his boots and shedding his coat by the door.

“Is cold as shit outside,” Boris grumbled, plopping back down on the sofa as if he hadn’t left. As if Theo hadn’t been seconds away from another breakdown.

Theo could smell the cigarette smoke on him and inhaled. He frowned when he detected the smell of something else as well. Something _good_.

Was Boris wearing _cologne_? He definitely hadn’t been earlier. Or if he had, it hadn’t been nearly as strong. The smell of it was intoxicating, and Theo found himself inhaling deeply, trying to get more of the scent.

Boris threw a glance over at Theo. “Is nice, yes?”

It was _fucking delicious_ , Theo thought. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said instead.

Boris grabbed the back of Theo’s neck and yanked him until his nose was crushed into Boris’ collar. “Cannot properly smell it from way over there. See? Is very good.”

“Ow! I can’t smell anything if you break my nose, you shithead,” Theo said, yanking his head back. “Jesus, that hurt.” Theo adjusted his glasses with a frown. “You almost broke my glasses too, you dumbass.”

Boris looked at him expectantly. “Well?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it smells amazing.”

He wasn’t sure if the smell of the cologne was the last straw or not, but it was the justification Theo gave himself when he finally leaned in and kissed Boris, something Boris eagerly responded to.

Though it wasn’t the first, or even second time anything like this had happened, there was something satisfying about the fact that _he_ had initiated it this time, not Boris. And he would remember it completely this time without it being a scattered blur in his memory. Without repression or feelings of self-resentment. 

“Unbuttoned shirt not enough, hmm?” Boris said in between kisses.

Theo paused, trying to piece together what Boris was rambling about now. “What?”

Boris pulled back with a smug expression. “I unbutton shirt before dinner. Wait all evening. You stare and stare and stare, but do nothing. But was cologne that finally taped the deal, yes?”

“It’s _sealed_ the deal. But yeah. That was….wait,” Theo paused in disbelief. “Boris, you _mother_ fuck. You _knew_ that stupid shirt was going to drive me nuts. You clever….” Theo shook his head and playfully smacked Boris’ leg with his own. “You pretended to need a smoke just to spray your silly cologne, too.”

Theo wasn’t sure if he should be mortified or impressed that Boris had clearly seen Theo checking him out all night and hadn’t said anything until now. The whole plan was obvious now, but Theo blamed the drugs and wine that impaired his ability to see what had been staring him in the face the entire time. 

Boris grinned. “Have always known, Theo. Am very smart,” he said, tapping the size of his head with his finger. “But got sick of waiting; have been waiting since Vegas. One of us had to do something, yes?”

Theo simply kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I've read the book. I also haven't seen the movie, but I'm hoping I captured their voices in a somewhat believable manner despite this.
> 
> Also, I haven't written anything in years, so I'm a bit rusty.


End file.
